


Crazy Rich Philippa

by Allamarain



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F, Ferengi, Inspired by Crazy Rich Asians, milippa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 16:49:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21497341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allamarain/pseuds/Allamarain
Summary: Summary: On much needed shore leave, Michael and Philippa check into a Ferengi-owned inn, where the staff is less than receptive. But the former Terran emperor has no intention of backing down.An AU of the opening scene of Crazy Rich Asians.
Relationships: Michael Burnham/Mirror Philippa Georgiou
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	Crazy Rich Philippa

**Author's Note:**

> Because I live under a rock, I only recently watched Crazy Rich Asians. MIchelle Yeoh, of course, was absolutely brilliant and I loved her performance. Anyway, enjoy!

The rain had soaked Michael’s coat, the coldness penetrating through to her skin. She took quick steps, duffel bag bouncing against her hip, struggling to match Philippa’s long strides. She tried to make out the street names in the darkness, and hoped they were in the right place.

She’d finally been able to take shore leave. She could have taken it sooner. Captain Pike, had, in fact, encouraged her to. But she hadn’t wanted to take it alone. Philippa, whose own shore leave had been more complicated to negotiate. One of the perils of working for Section 31. But now it was only a matter of minutes, until they reached the inn.

She needed this. Her mind had been all over the place aboard _Discovery_ the past few weeks, thinking of Philippa, craving her. Laying awake at night in her quarters, thinking of her gorgeous emperor, resisting the urge to relieve herself (Tilly was, unfortunately, a light sleeper). All the times they talked on subspace and Philippa threatened to take a shuttle and drag her off to an empty cargo hold…she shivered…and not from the cold. 

Soon.

If they could find the place. They were on Urion, the nearest M-class planet with recreation spots, in a town designed to resemble an old Earth village, complete with cobblestone-paved streets. Michael had thought it sounded charming. She wished it wasn’t the rainy season, but again, she hadn’t had many options. 

Philippa stopped to let Michael catch up to her. She glanced at her wristwatch. “Two more blocks west.”

“Good,” she replied.“It’s freezing out here.”

Philippa gave her a lascivicious look. “You won’t be cold when I’m done with you. Come on.” In anticipation, Michael pickked up her pace.

They stopped in front of a two-story Tudor building with a gabled roof. Ivy covered the gutters, which were bursting with rain water. They stood under a metal awning, surveying the inn. Raindrops tapped out a steady rhythm above their heads. Philipa examined the exterior with her arms crossed, an expression of disdain. “This is it?”

Michael pointed to the sign. “The Cask and Flagon Inn, yeah. It’s supposed to be charming. Did you have places like this in your universe?”

She scowled. “I was not in the habit of granting my subjects vacations. They were supposed to be working for the glory of the Empire. However,” she traced her delicate fingers along Michael’s arm. “I could be convinced to think otherwise.”

After the cold rain, the warmth of the lobby was more than welcome. Rivulets of water poured down their legs, leaving matching puddles on the floor. Philippa undid the top two buttons of her trenchcoat, exposing the leather bodice she wore underneath. Michael whimpered, unable to take her eyes off the lovely sight. The Terran had been teasing her the entire shuttle flight down, whispering naughty things in her ear, letting her sneak a few glances underneath her coat. Michael had scarcely been able to control herself.

Her staring was interrupted by the Ferengi desk clerk clearing his throat. He looked at them with disdain. “You realize this is a posh inn?” He spoke Federation Standard in a poor imitation of a British accent.

“Sorry about the mess,” Michael called, feeling guilty. Philippa shook her head. Ignoring her,she approached the clerk. The gold lapel pin on his chest read Grint, Night Manager. ”Michael Burnham. I have a reservation.” 

Grint frowned, staring at her. “You’re Michael Burnham?” 

“Yes!” she pulled her Starfleet ID out of her pocket, dropping it on the counter. “I’ve reserved the Lancaster Suite for three nights.“

The clerk didn’t move. “We’re fully booked.”

“What? No, I made the reservation weeks ago.” She tried to stifle her alarm. She’d been waiting so long for this, and if their plans were ruined by a lousy clerical error…

“I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake. Perhaps there are lodgings in town that can accommodate you. Ones that cater to unescorted fe-males,” he sneered.

Years of Vulcan emotional suppression training did not betray her even expression, but on the inside, she was fuming. She felt stupid for not checking the Cask and Flagon’s ownership. She hadn’t encountered many Ferengi, but she knew about their attitudes towards women. 

Before she could act, she felt Phillipa’s hand on her arm. “Check again. My friend and I have had a long shuttle flight, and we would like to be shown to our rooms.” She glared at Grint, daring him to maintain his falsehood.

He was unfazed. “We’re fully booked. Leave.”

Philippa’s eyes bored into the clerk. For a moment, Michael worried she was going to grab him by the collar and strangle him. For a split second, she worried how she’d explain that to Pike and Leland. But after a tense moment, she relaxed. “I’ll take care of this,” she said to Michael. “Stay here.”

She watched Phillipa walk outside, under the awning, talking to someone on her wristwatch, confused. What exactly was she going to do?

After a few minutes, Philippa came back into the lobby, looking smugly self-assured. “I thought I told you two to leave.” The clerk growled. “Do I need to call the police?”

“Wait.” She gave a small, cruel smile.

Just then, a much older, wrinkled Ferengi came into the lobby. “Captain Georgiou! Welcome!” he smiled. Turning to the clerk, he said, “Grint, Prepare the Lancaster suite right away.”

Grint protested. “But Droitax, sir, they are fouling your hotel with…”

“My hotel no longer.” Droitax beamed. “As of right now, Captain Georgiou here is the Cask and Flagon’s new owner. I have just sold the inn to her.”

Michael and Grint reacted with equal shock. “But sir,” he exclaimed,” remember the 94th Rule of Acquisition! Fe-males and finances don’t mix!”

“You’ll never get into the Divine Treasury with that attitude, Grint. The Captain has offered me an excellent price for the inn. I have just made an enormous profit! Now, if you’ll excuse us, I must celebrate our transaction. Romulan ale and tube grubs for everyone!” With surprising energy for his age, Droitax bounded off in the direction of the rooms. 

“Philippa!” Michael said in a low voice. “How could you afford to buy this place?”

“I have some…strategic investments. And I didn’t want anything spoiling our shore leave.” She grinned, looking Michael up and down. “I hope you’ll make my purchase worthwhile.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Michael squeaked.

“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.” With another suggestive grin, Philippa picked up her bag and started towards the rooms. She stopped, and looked back at Grint, boring holes into him with her eyes. “The 98th Rule of Acquisition: every _man_ has his price,” she said coldly. “Get a mop. This floor is a mess.” 

Still too dumbfounded to speak, Grint could only watch as the women walked away, Philippa’s hand firmly rested on Michael’s backside.


End file.
